


Shark Tooth

by Xazz



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Happy AU, Holiday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:30:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xazz/pseuds/Xazz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you had a connection to people while alive you could sort of ‘jump over’ to their shark tooth. Desmond didn’t have a lot of connections, or if he did most of them were still alive. But he was connected to some dead people. Slightly against his will he was connected to them too because they all were sort of terrible human beings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shark Tooth

**Author's Note:**

> Merry fucking Christmas everyone. Have a death fic where everyone is happy and all the Assassins are confused by modern, American, Christmas.

Everyone had their own idea of the afterlife. Abraham religions thought it was a heaven. Others thought you got reborn. Mormons thought you got your own planet. Atheists thought there was nothing. You were just dead.

Desmond would say they were all wrong and they were all right.

You were dead, and dead was dead. But that wasn’t the end of you and your life was like a shark tooth, yours ended and the next one moved up to fill that space you had occupied, and you landed amid all the other teeth which had collected in a bucket. ‘Everyone’ had their own ‘space’, their own bubble, which, in a sense, was like getting your own planet. You could make it however you wanted. It was about as close to heaven as you’d ever get.

Which suited Desmond just fine.

His life had constantly balanced on a knife’s edge of money to pay rent, food, running, keeping his head down, and then finally the whole trouble with the end of the world. Here though, _here_ , Desmond could have a normal ‘life’. Here Desmond could pretend he was normal and not some ill fated savior of the world.

And what Desmond wanted was something he’d never had. Which was an incredibly _normal_ , boring, Christmas. At the Farm they hadn’t celebrated Christmas really, definitely no egg nog, or Christmas trees, or decorations. Just some presents which honestly weren’t that great. It wasn’t until Desmond had been out on his own that he realized how much he’s _missed out_ on Christmas. Though he couldn’t really celebrate it anyway, he lived alone, in a one room apartment, and worked forty five hours a week on slow weeks.

But now Desmond had all the time in the world to do all the stuff he’d never been able to do. Sure he was dead, but that wasn’t stopping him. Or from throwing a party with all his dead friends.

If you had a connection to people while alive you could sort of ‘jump over’ to their shark tooth. Desmond didn’t have a lot of connections, or if he did most of them were still alive. But he _was_ connected to some dead people. Slightly against his will he was connected to them too because they all were sort of terrible human beings.

Though maybe that was being overly generous.

Honestly they were all terrible human beings.

But they were the ones he had. They, for the most part, were surprised they shared a connection with someone so removed from their own time. But then what was modern life if not forcing people together who never should or would be together in the first place? And what was Christmas for (other than presents) than forcing you to spend time with family you hadn’t seen in a long time? It had taken Desmond a while to get this all together, and then to convince them each separately to actually show up. Most people didn’t like leaving their shark tooth, their little personal, personalized, bit of heaven. But damnit Desmond had given his _life_ to save the world and they could all respect that, so had agreed to come.

They all showed up at different times. Just appearing in Desmond’s space. Connor came first, painfully early. One moment Desmond was alone, the next Connor was there.

“A-am I late?” Connor asked anxiously, worried that because the others weren’t here he’d missed it.

“Nope,” Desmond said, “you’re early. The others haven’t been assed to get here yet.”

“Oh… oh good?” He was quiet for a few moments, looking around. Connor looked different than Desmond was used to, he wasn’t in uniform and he was older. Still Connor though. “So what should I do?”

“You can chill if you want, you’re super early,” he said. Desmond went back to what he’d been doing before Connor showed up, which was putting up decorations. After a moment Connor sat awkwardly, not knowing what to do with himself.

A short time passed when Ezio arrived, on time. He was young looking, innocent, before everything had happened to his family. “Hello!” he called boisterously upon appearing in Desmond’s shark tooth, which currently looked like a house he could have never afforded. Instantly he was talking, “I know you told me to just bring myself, but my mother visited with the experience of some _fantastic_ wine. So I brought that,” and Ezio held up a wine bottle.

“You didn’t have to-

“Nonsense!” Ezio cried, “Its a family gathering, of course I had to bring something!” And somehow Desmond wasn’t surprised it was so… Italian.

Desmond laughed a little, “Alright. This is Connor,” he pointed at Connor, he waved awkwardly, trying to take up as little space as possible on Desmond’s couch.

“Connor, hello I’m-

“I know,” Connor said, “My Mentor told me about you.”

“Really?” Connor nodded, “Heh, and Federico said I’d never amount to anything,” he said, bragging to himself. Ezio held out his hand to shake Connor’s but Connor didn’t shake it. Poor guy. Seeing Connor wasn’t going to be entertaining Ezio turned back to Desmond. “So, Desmond, what is this celebration you promised?”

“Christmas,” he said.

“Christmas? What’s Christmas?” Ezio asked, rather excitedly actually. Desmond stopped what he was doing to explain the concept to him. As he did Haytham was abruptly there. He honestly hadn’t expected Haytham to come. But he did while Desmond was explaining and Desmond kept going while Ezio listened, he’d introduce Haytham and Ezio in a bit. As he did Haytham’s frown just got bigger and _bigger_.

“That’s amazing,” Ezio said in an excited whisper once Desmond was finished explaining.

“Its an embarrassment,” Haytham said, unimpressed. “What has the world come to that the holiday has gone so far astray.”

Desmond sighed, “Hello Haytham.”

“Its so… unchristian,” he said disapprovingly.

Desmond gave Haytham a long look, “You’re not Christian,” he said.

“Its the thought that counts, hello Connor lovely to see you, as usual,” Haytham was now totally uninterested in Desmond.

“Hello, father,” Connor said and Desmond was glad to see that at least in death these two had gotten over their differences. If Haytham sitting down next to Connor without him getting anxious was any indication.

“What’s his problem?” Ezio jerked his thumb at Haytham.

“He’s a Templar and Templars aren’t allowed to feel joy,” Desmond said, shooting Haytham a hot look.

“Seems like,” Ezio said, brows arching. “Can I help?” he asked quickly.

“Help?”

“Yes. Help, with decorations, the festivities. It all sounds very exciting,” he said.

“Sure,” Desmond said and directed Ezio to putting up the other side of some tinsel. Haytham complained the entire time that how Desmond was celebrating was all wrong and the world had gone pretty south if people now put _trees_ up in their homes and covered them with ornaments. Connor eventually got tired of Haytham’s loud complaining and decided to help Desmond and Ezio, who were now decorating the tree. 

Desmond had thought up _hundreds_ of ornaments. Ones he’d seen in magazines and TV and movies and general human consciousness of bulbs and icicles. But also ones shaped like cars and planes and animals and food and buff men in tight clothes and sexy women in matching outfits and snow babies and angels. It helped that Desmond’s shark tooth could fit the big tree he’d decided he’d needed and needed to decorate, because there were a lot of decorations and lights to put up.

Haytham’s complaining eventually stopped, realizing he was being ignored. “Is anyone else coming?” Connor asked as he handed Desmond a clear bulb that was actually snowing inside it, including perfect, tiny, clouds.

“Uh, yeah, he isn’t here yet though. No doubt he’s going to be late because he looks for any excuse to _not_ do as someone asks,” Desmond sighed.

“Who is it?” Connor asked.

“You’ll see.”

“Hmm,” and then Connor looked thoughtful, “I’ll be back,” and then just like that, was gone.

“Where’d he go?” Ezio asked.

Desmond shrugged, “Who knows. But if he says he’ll be back, he will be. Connor’s a man of his word.”

“Yes, and it usually gets him into more trouble than he knows what to do with,” Haytham said.

“I think you need a drink,” Desmond told Haytham.

“Perhaps the best thing you’ve said since I met you,” Haytham said.

Desmond rolled his eyes and went into the kitchen. The whole eating and drinking thing was redundant maybe, they were all dead already, there was no point to eating or drinking as they had no bodies and thus no need to sustain themselves. But like everything in your shark tooth it was just a memory of life, and a memory of the things you enjoyed. And Desmond’s life had revolved around alcohol for most of his time on the mortal coil. Maybe not drinking it, but at the very least being around it. So he had a collection of all the booze he’d ever wanted to buy. The best years of wine, perfectly aged scotch and whiskey, old champagne bottles that had never been opened, strong dark rums from the caribbean. He could have never afforded them in his life, but here, he could have whatever he wanted.

He selected a champagne, and it iced over as soon as he touched it, turning the perfect, chill, temperature. Haytham would appreciate it. He also got some eggnog, because Desmond liked eggnog. He also liked adding rum to it.

“Here,” he put the bottle of champagne in Haytham’s lap as he walked past, putting down a champagne flute as well for the far too self indulgent Templar Grand Poobah. He poured himself and Ezio eggnog and rum.

“What’s this?” Ezio asked as he took it.

“Alcohol,” Desmond said.

Ezio tested it, “Its sweet,” he said, “And you’re sure its alcohol? It doesn’t taste like any I’ve had.”

“It is,” he assured Ezio as Connor popped back in.

“Connor where are we?” Ziio asked, looking around.

“A friend’s. You told me once you find English celebrations… amusing.”

“The ones Haytham told me about yes,” and then she noticed Haytham, “You’re here?”

“Partially against my will,” Haytham grumbled.

“That would make the both of us.”

“Took you long enough,” Desmond told Altair, he was out of the way of them, hanging back. And of course he was wearing his Assassin uniform. Though Desmond wasn’t sure Altair owned everything else. He looked young still, without any gray hair, though Desmond hadn’t known him then.

“I’ve been here,” Altair said, “You’re just unperceptive.”

“Who’re you?” Haytham asked.

“If you don’t know then you aren’t important enough to-

“His name is Altair ibn La’Ahad and he’s got a big head,” Altair gave him a look from under his head. “Can’t kill me here old man. Already dead.”

Altair’s face relaxed a bit, “No, I suppose I can’t.”

“Altair?” Ezio asked, “You’re related to Altair?” he looked at Desmond.

“Technically yes, genetically; barely,” Desmond shrugged. Ezio stared at him, stared at Altair, then back at Desmond. “Oh god I forgot how big of a fanboy you are this is absolutely embarrassing,” he said when Ezio looked at Altair with near worshipful regard.

“Did you expect this to happen?” Connor asked when Ezio nearly _skipped_ over to the Syrian.

“No, but I should have expected it,” he sighed. “Here,” he handed Connor another ornament. “You brought your mom?”

“Yes, do you mind? I was growing tired of father’s nagging,” Connor said.

“Not at all, your mom’s sort of a badass.”

Connor smiled a little, about as much as he ever did smile, “Yes, she is, isn’t she?”

“You spend a lot of time with her?” Connor nodded, “That’s good. I’m glad for you.”

“Do you spend time with your parents here?” Connor asked.

Desmond grew somber for a moment, “Both of mine are still alive.”

Connor frowned, “Its painful when parents outlive their children, for all involved.”

Altair was suddenly between them, and seemed to be trying to hide behind Desmond. Not that hard since Altair was several inches shorter than Desmond. “Make him _stop_ ,” Altair said.

“What?” Desmond looked to the side and saw Ezio, looking way too pleased with himself and eager. Clearly he’d been bothering Altair. “Awww does Altair need help getting Ezio to go away?” he teased.

“He won’t shut up,” Altair growled.

“You should be glad to meet your number one fan,” Desmond said, “He really, _really_ , likes you.”

“I can see that, please make him leave me alone,” and Altair _was_ hiding behind Desmond. It was silly.

“Ezio, help Connor instead of bothering Altair,” Desmond said.

“But-

“You can bother him some other time,” Desmond said.

Ezio pouted at Desmond and Desmond just gave him a look, “ _Fine_ ,” he huffed and went to help Connor who was just quietly putting up ornaments, trying to just not get involved if possible.

“He gone?” Altair asked.

“Yes, I don’t know why you couldn’t handle it.”

“Well like you said, can’t kill anyone here, already dead,” and Desmond snorted.

“Going to help us?”

“Do I have to talk to Ezio?”

“No.”

“Then I guess,” he shrugged.

“You can help me on this side,” and he showed Altair to literally the other side of the tree.

“And you hang things on it?” Altair asked, looking very confused by the entire thing.

“Yes.”

“Christians are weird,” he said.

“Muslims are too, also take your hood off,” and he pulled it back. Altair turned and stared at him like he _couldn’t_ believe Desmond had just done that. “Well that explains a lot,” he said.

“Don’t do that,” and Altair yanked his hood back up with a scowl.

“Dude, just wear a hat.”

“I like the hood,” Altair said petulantly, “ _dude_ ,” though clearly Altair thought dude was an insult.

“Whatever, here,” and handed Altair an ornament. Altair put the ornament up, and honestly the entire ‘adventure’ of having his ancestors over for Christmas went over a lot better than he’d hoped. No one had attempted to kill the other, and other than Haytham (who honestly couldn’t be happy if he tried) everyone seemed to be all-right with indulging in their up-tenth-great grandson’s wishes. Even Altair calmed the fuck down once Desmond got some liquor into him. He’d have to remember to do this more often. Not like they were going anywhere.


End file.
